


The Moonlit Meadows.

by SlySama



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Character Turned into a vampire, Human/Vampire Relationship, M/M, Magical Tattoos, Major Character Undeath, Runaway Harry Potter, Vampire Sex, uncontrollable magic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2020-04-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23596186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlySama/pseuds/SlySama
Summary: With new powers, aches and pains and a deep desire to keep the rest of his loved ones from harm, Harry Potter disappears and with foul intents afoot, arises as a nightwalking bloodsucker. With the unlikely help of an old acquaintance, he realises it might not be so bad after all.
Relationships: Eventual and Probably HP and SS, Harry Potter/Original Male Character(s)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





	1. Prologue.

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Harry Potter.

The Moonlit Meadows.

‘I’m going.’

‘What? Harry, no. You can’t.’

‘I have to. I have to.’ He repeated, pushing the hands away and walking down the stairs, heading out and into the Forbidden Forest, heading for the clearing he just knew the evil bastard was hiding. It was overshadowed by bowing trees, crowded with Death Eaters and dead leaves, and there, scrubbing at his wounds as if that would make them somehow less severe and peeling, was the evil shit himself; Voldemort.

It was distasteful.

The raven remembered staring dimly through the shadows as he lifted his wand and stepping forwards with the shadows of his loved ones and then suddenly…Everything went **Pitch Black**.

And then strangely; **Blinding**.

The sky went almost florescent, the dark earth beneath crunched and appeared to simply disappear as everything around him went bright but darkened as his vision began to suffer. The next thing the raven knew was that he was kneeling on sticks and was in the most agonising, searing pain in every part of his body; his throat became agony as he silently screamed, clawing at the ground as he bowed forwards; his head banging into an uncovered rock.

Other screams echoed in his ears as ash began smouldering around him. Spontaneous fires began burning the dried earth and flickered up the thick trunks of ancient trees, sending acrid smoke into the darkening sky.

Not that he would know until he re-awoke but he had burnt them. All of them. His wild display of uncontrolled, frustrated and angered and seriously protective magic had destroyed them all; entirely and utterly, until there was nothing left.

Unfortunately, or really probably fairly; the backlash of using such unrestrained magic had burnt his skin in a decerning way and hadn’t just scarred him, no, fate had taken his magic away as it had wiped out everything within a pretty huge radius.

The place had been smoking above the treetops as he stumbled his way to his feet, trying to ignore that some fighting was still going on out on the grounds of Hogwarts, that he could hear screams and the echoes of people crying; he wasn’t sure he could go out there and face everything. To go out there and face all those that had sacrificed their lives to get him to **that** point. To go out there and see his own friends forever gone…He really hadn’t the heart or soul for it right now; let alone to go out there and have everyone rejoice over his murdering other wizards and witches.

Not matter if it was for the good of the wizarding world, or for their freedom, that Voldemort and his followers were the bad sort; it still wasn’t right.

…And he was only seventeen; this had been a terrible childhood.

So he left.


	2. Chapter One

CHAPTER ONE.

**A year has passed, somewhere within the Black Forest inside Germany.**

The raven slowly awoke, fingers twitching on over-washed roughened sheets tucked too tightly. Eyelids flickered painfully over glued-shut jewels of jade; they opened slowly onto what appeared to be a whitewashed ceiling.

The jewels continued to blink until the pain was somewhat manageable, but the body couldn’t help the pained groan upon shifting as recognition set in. It was an infirmary. Granted though, it didn’t appear to be a familiar one, so he wasn’t once more inside Hogwarts Hospital Wing, obviously. There was no reason why he would be, but he’d guarantee it was a hospital cot he was swathed in, nonetheless.

But the question was, why was he in one?

What had happened to put him here?

As far as he could clearly remember, he had been on his way to work at the Village Grocery; The Brown Bear. He’d been working there now for nigh on 12 months and despite having to wear a pink uniform with a cute brown bear on it every-day; he really enjoyed it. He knew almost everyone in the Village; since they all got their groceries there.

Most were friendly, and he enjoyed that too. It was special. Different. Especially that old woman that asked him how his day was, every-day, and never ceased to mutter lowly, to herself, but never quite low enough that he didn’t hear it, that she thought he was lonely.

He always supplied an amused smile when he rang up her items and he always wished her a good day; not matter that it was part of the job, he really meant it.

He groaned again, trying not to move because it hurt. A lot.

Had he managed to get there on time?

Had he managed to get there at all?

The raven remembered it had begun to snow that day. Winter had set in early, though the Black Forest never ceased to exclude coldness the entire time he had been there; he’d always donned a thick jacket over top of knitted sweater when he wandered the streets. He’d waved at a few kids playing football; if he recalled correctly, they’d been playing on a thin sleet of ice but for the life of him, he couldn’t remember if he’d reached work that morning.

He frowning fiercely, head pressed deeply into the soft pillow, his fingers scrunched in the bedspread, clenching and unclenching, trying to recall it; trying to recall anything that would have ended up with him here, and in the pain he was.

‘Well, good mornin’ sunshine.’

So the raven jerked at this unexpected voice.

‘Easy. You’re not exactly in the greatest shape right now. Granted, you weren’t before though, right? Those marks under your arm bandages; those are the type of burns wizards received when they’ve over-exceeded their magic capabilities, isn’t it?’

‘ “A Wild Display”. I believe that’s what it’s called.’ He continued.

The raven’s eyes blinked slowly as they came to make out a blurred shape in the darkened doorway. ‘Zack said you had some pretty extensive nerve damage too. Reckoned it was probably a nasty hex cast at you.’ Eyelids closed, flickered and reopened. He hadn’t known anything about nerve damage…He stared down at his hands and saw that they were indeed somewhat shaking as they curled and unfurled from the crisp fabric beneath them. His arms ached with these actions and he made a pained noise.

The blur sighed heavily, leaning on the framework and inspecting his nails; obviously trying to seem less concerned or trying to “Play it cool”. ‘Zack believes we can’t fix everything though.’ He sounded disappointed. ‘You look like you could use some miracles, even if it’s coming from an unlikely source. Pretty sorry, for what’s its worth, I just thought I couldn’t let them do that. Why didn’t you use your magic? You were a wizard, right?’

Harry’s mouth opened and closed, and his throat worked to swallow dryly. The man wasn’t giving him any room to respond to anything he was saying. It was odd, the way he spoke, the way he stayed in shadow and how the raven’s eyesight with each painfully bearable blink, got a little easier to see. But it was weirder, he thought, that he could feel the magic coursing through him, helping him; when he hadn’t felt it in a year. 

‘It hurts.’ He whispered. In more ways than one. He’d stumbled from that battle unable to perform the smallest, simplest charm without it being unbearably excruciatingly painful; when he focused hard enough and forced it out.

He’d left, not seeing his friends; and had only sent a _Patronus_ —which had been excruciating to conjure and keep up, to Snape, Draco and Narcissa’s trials; screw Lucius, he’d followed the megalomaniac like an idiot since he was a teenager, with no conscience. He could rot in Azkaban for all the damage he’d done and then…

It was gone. The magic had vanished entirely, unable to be brought forth with any focus.

‘Oh. Oh, right of course. Here. Drink some of this, you’ll feel loads better.’ The raven didn’t think the man quite understood but he was beside him and handling him a goblet before he knew it. It was as if the man had simply dematerialised and materialised closer, like apparition but without the added noise, and completely spontaneous.

The blinks worked to focus and soon, as he drank whatever was in it, not wanting to know but ultimately recognising a metallic tang; the man came into focus and Harry’s senses slowly returned, watching, recognising, hoping he was hallucinating. Finally licking his lips, dropping the goblet on the sheet he whispered harshly. ‘You.’ A red smear followed the roll of the drinking glass.

Brown eyes blinked. ‘Aye. Me. I’m really sorry.’ He looked pained. Maybe he’d hoped he wouldn’t recognise him? Feeling pained, as he struggled to completely sit up, every second became a new image and past memory.

The man beside him, stepping away, had been a part of the group that had attacked him out of nowhere and the last pale face he’d seen among the darkness that had enveloped him. ‘You attacked me. Why?’ He throat still felt so raw.

‘No, no. You’ve got that wrong. I saved you, sort of.’ The chestnut-haired male’s hand shook before his own eyes in the negative. ‘Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t like I was some innocent bystander passing by. I stood and watched them mutilate you, and I am so sorry for that. When I inducted into the team, I had no idea that they would be so merciless. I was drawn in by power, by rewards, by glory, fear and my own damn stupidity. I had no part but in the part that put you here.’ His voice shook as he gesticulated around the small empty room.

‘And where are we?’ Harry’s voice broke as he cleared his throat, staring around the room with an eyesight that was getting clearer with each passing second with the help of his lost magic. The room was small, cluttered with vials stacked hazardously and dangerously on shelves, books stacked high in various languages on the grey carpeted floor, linens piled on armchairs in corners and three beds sat thankfully unoccupied very close by. ‘And what exactly put me here?’ He still wasn’t completely sure on that.

‘Doc’s infirmary. Our Coven. Turning.’ The words might as well have been ripped from him they were so strangled as he edged even further back towards the doorway; it almost appeared like the man was frightened of **him**.

 **Why**?

The raven’s head tilted, peering to a tall shadow beyond Chestnut. ‘You’re…’

‘No.’ Chestnut shook his waves. ‘Our.’ He swallowed as a black painted fingernail pointed at himself and then at Harry. The raven had been referring to the shadow beyond himself. Brows drew inwards and his jaw tightened as his nails dug into the sheets from the comment. ‘I’m sure I will be asking forgiveness of you for Eternity; Literally.’ He whispered. ‘But I just couldn’t let them leave you like that, and they would have. I overheard it was revenge for killing their employer before he could reward their progresses; I don’t know if they had separate mission’s, however. I just know that their aim was…well…You.’ Chestnut pointed again. ‘I am truly sorry.’ He even bowed low.

The cashier blinked. ‘How old are you?’ He questioned.

The brown eyes flickered everywhere. ‘Uh…Hundred and Twenty-One?’

‘And that’s still young?’ He queried.

Blink. Blink. Blink. ‘~Yes.’

‘ How are we doing then?’ A new voice chimed in; forcefully chipper.

Harry’s eyes shifted. ‘….’

Chestnut looked extremely uncomfortable.

‘You made me a Vampire.’ The young man’s voice was matter-a-fact.

‘I had too.’ He sounded vey pained by it. Sincere. The raven wasn’t sure he cared if Chestnut was sorry for what he’d done, even if he’d saved Harry, he’d still condemned him to another hell, hadn’t he? To blood, to eternity alone, to watch all his friends disappear, if they hadn’t already, to a life full of distrust?

He took a deep heavy breath, wondering if he even had to take any and it was purely a human habit. He licked dried lips and blinked a few times between two different men and spoke again. ‘That…’ He pointed to the goblet. ‘Was blood, wasn’t it?’ He didn’t wait for the answer. ‘You are…Zack or Doc?’

‘One and the same.’ He was sandy haired, tall, well defined beneath his lab coat, black shirt and black denim trousers, pale and stared somehow through him at the same time as at him with crystal eyes that looked gentle and inquisitive.

‘My magic…’ Harry started; Sandy nodded for him to continue. ‘It was lost to me for the last year and yet somehow I can feel it coursing through my veins and helping me. I can feel it producing magic for my sight; before all this I wore spectacles, before **them** , I wasn’t completely blind; I can feel the scratches when my eyelids drop. There’s a vague recollection of claws in my eyes. They obviously had the intent to kill…At some stage, but I get the impression that this time was more to do with permanently disfiguring me and making life difficult.’ He stared at Chestnut deeply. ‘I’m not sure they haven’t succeeded.’

The young vamp blanched. ‘What?’

‘Via you.’ Harry clarified, pointing with his own dark-tipped fingernails as he dragged himself from the mattress and stood a moment; considering.

Chestnut looked pained, his mouth opening and closing without words. Zack spoke up beside him, a hand on his shoulder. ‘Well, can you blame him for thinking it youngen? His life is going to be a lot more difficult; he was once a human after all and a very prominent wizard. If my daughters researching skills are anything to do go by.’ The man sounded like a proud Father; Harry hadn’t been aware Vampire’s could Father any children.

Chestnut frowned hurtfully.

‘Harry Potter, correct?’ Doc stated.

Harry inclined his head, turning on bare feet.

‘I hope you don’t mind the research, but I thought as you are a stranger in our Coven and in my Infirmary, that the Regent and his Lady might also want to know who their Heir brought home without notice.’

Harry blinked; head tilted again as eyebrows levered up at the screech from Chestnut that smacked the clearly older male. ‘I was taught in Constance Vigilance. I don’t blame you, but, Was.’ Harry corrected.

‘Beg your pardon?’ He turned away. ‘What Alaphonse?’

‘Well, I’m not the teen that took out the Dark Lord anymore, and the fact that I ran away will hardly endear me to anyone I once knew, especially after learning I’ve become a Blood-Sucker.’ He said the words with a derivative tone. ‘It isn’t like the Wizarding World will have changed their views so earnestly.’

‘Ala, Doc, my name is Ala! And my Father, nor my Mother, need to know!’ He was screeching over Harry’s unsavoury words so neither of them probably heard the words, or they chose to ignore them. They were in their own tangent, arguing about who needed or didn’t need to know.

Harry mumbled, lifting his legs up and down and placing the goblet on a wobbly looking side table that housed a water jug and a clear goblet for water. ‘You do know I am still in the room, right? Only a few feet away from you? I don’t suppose that’s exactly any different to how I’ve always been treated but do you mind maybe not talking about me as if I’m not right here in the same room and can very clearly hear everything; that perhaps I might a bit FURIOUS FOR BEING TURNED?!’ He ended up shouting, glaring at them.

‘Oh.’ They both whispered, turning to him. ‘My apologises, of course.’ Doc said, bowing.

‘Um, yes, apologies.’ Chestnut bowed.

‘Perhaps, we can start over with introductions; properly this time?’

Harry shrugged. He didn’t care.

‘My name is Zack. But mostly, everyone calls me Doc. This Sire of yours, lacking as he is, is and always will be Alaphonse De La Soul.’

‘Ala! Ala! My name is not Alaphonse.’ He sneered, gritting his teeth and nails.

Harry simply shrugged again. ‘I was calling you Chestnut.’ The man frowned, turning to face him in bafflement. ‘Because of the colour of your hair. It was easy.’ He patted his own and felt it was a complete mess. So he padded over to the gilded mirror and jumped back in surprise.

‘Weren’t expecting a reflection?’ Doc said, amusement lacing his voice.

The raven flushed because, no, he hadn’t been. It had simply been a habit to walk to the mirror installed and fix his flyaway locks. He hadn’t been paying attention in any Vampiric classes obviously.

‘I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised to find that not all mortal words of myth are true. Take your reflection there for an example; it’s there. Just as it would have been there a week ago when you were still a mortal human.’

His body jerked. He’d been out for a week?

He turned back to stare at the mirror. He was pale; not hadn’t seen the sun in a year pale but you’ve no blood running through your veins that’s your own, pale. His dark jet-black hair, brows and long lashes were in stark contrast and his eyes, though no longer emerald but Jade were still bright compared to his complexion. He was thin but he was still well-toned; he didn’t expect that to really disappear simply because he was starved for a week or that he hadn’t done his daily exercises in a week either. The bandages on his arms were new, so they were a crisp white that blended into the translucency.

His teeth were aching and apparently now tapered to a wicked point. Despite being beneath the ground, he didn’t feel cold either.

‘You might not be completely healed of all your ails, but most cuts and bruises will have healed completely. Your eyesight is purely your magic assisting and showing it’s quiet loyalty, as you’ve ascertained already; as it always has been. The proof would be the markings and burns you possess there on your forearms.’ He pointed and Harry looked down at the bandages once more.

‘The burns are from some wild displays of magic that spiked when you were in some serious danger. I expect it might have reawaken thanks to the danger you were in recently. It hasn’t stopped protecting you, and I dare say it protected quite a number of humans previously. The patterns are from your magic weaving itself through your bloodstream and connecting itself to your damaged nerves. It is in fact, your magic that is allowing you to work those arms, hands and finger’s at all.’ He went on, all professionalism.

Why hadn’t he ever noticed?

‘I daresay you never noticed you had nerve damage?’

Harry turned and stared deeply. ‘Are you reading my thoughts?’ His eyes narrowed.

‘Am I?’ He sounded surprised. ‘Just reading your body language.’ He waved vaguely. A laughing note to his voice. ‘Take a bath, reacquaint yourself with amenities, organise your thoughts with a good soak in the tub, and he’ll—He aimed a finger at Ala—will find you some clothes and some necessary reading materials to intermingle politely and safely here, in the meantime.’

‘Reading materials?’ He questioned, confused, pausing as he’d turned to head into the small bathroom.

‘Books.’ The man clarified. ‘I’m sure that Alaphonse will do the right thing and go introduce you to his Father and Mother at the Manor House, after all that.’ His tone took on a laugh as he ignored the indignant squawk next to him.

Harry’s lids flickered but he nodded; his head was swimming. He had to study? Despite the overly calm demeanour, he was in fact, well, scared, disorientated, a little angry and it was a lot to take in; that you suddenly weren’t human anymore.

…That you needed blood to survive.

…That you may not feel cold, but your body certainly was.

…That you were nothing short of a glorified corpse.

…That you were so, really, achingly hungry.

  * ○●○●○



Books.

Books.

Books, on everything. About Vampirism anyway.

Harry stared down at the stacked books on the end of the made bed. He’d just finished soaking and now stood in a towel as he searched for new clothing; these books were what he saw first; evidently.

‘I believe they are on the dresser behind you.’

The raven jumped and spun, eyes flicking through the odd darkness that followed behind the opened doorway. A young woman emerged; her features were soft, her body was lithe, her complexion just as pale as his own and her beautiful golden waves were tied up in a messy bun; her luminescent crystalline eyes were staring at him in bemusement as he choked,

‘What?’ trying awkwardly to make sure his towel stayed where it was.

‘You’re looking for the new clean clothes aren’t you?’

A jerky nod.

‘Then turn around, take about three strides and stare down.’ She laughed, apparently extremely amused by his nervous jerky movements. ‘They’re on the top of the dresser. Big Brother Ala put them there.’ She continued.

‘Sister?’ He queried.  
  
‘Not really. Friends. He’s older, I’m Hundred and Fifteen though I don’t particularly mind you asking about it, it probably isn’t very polite to ask about anyone’s age. Didn’t you ever learn it isn’t polite to ask someone’s age?’ She queried. ‘Well’ she shrugged. ‘Vampires can be a little sensitive about it, especially Day-Walkers.’ She finished.

‘Day-Walkers?’

He’d figured all Vampires were the same; evidently, he really hadn’t been paying attention in any vampiric classes. ‘In your books. Be nice to them, please, and return them in the same state you found them. It took a lot of effort to have these books kept and looked after.’ ‘The Librarian can be such a Bitch.’ She scowled heatedly.

‘Oh, they’re yours?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh. Okay.’ Unsure, the raven simply stood there, before the dresser now with his arms coming up to wrap around his middle. All his blood felt like it had relocated to his cheeks; it was like the heat was radiating his blush into the small room. His Jade eyes darted left and right when she just stood there, her hands clasped behind her. ‘Um…’

‘Mm?’ She looked at him innocently. ‘Oh. Don’t let me stop you. I’m here to make sure you respect my possessions and apparently to make sure the clothes fit, and to take you to the Regent and his Lady, as Ala has been detained by his retainers and is getting a well-deserved good spanking for the problems he’s caused recently.’ She said it all with a vague smile that Harry was almost 90% sure was sadistic pleasure.

‘…I’m not getting dressed with you in here. Go outside. Please.’ He added in case that had come out as a bit disrespectful and snap-ish.

‘It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.’

‘Um, that’s…No.’ He shook his head, grabbed the clothes from the dresser and spun back into the uncomfortably tiny bathroom. He wacked his elbow twice, in the same spot and swore colourfully several times before edging into the infirmary and glaring at the girl who was still there, twiddling her thumbs, dragging her flats across the carpeting.

‘My friend, for what it’s worth, is a bookworm. I’d never disrespect any of your books let alone your possessions. I’m not that kind of person, thank you.’ He grumbled something when she only stood and amusedly smiled at him, making sure it wasn’t intelligible enough to properly understand.

‘They suit you.’ She finally said. ‘Come on, pick up those and we’ll head up to the Study Hall; it’ll at least be a good two hours before Ala’s spankings are through.’ She snorted only to cover it up by a Ladylike coughing into a handkerchief. Harry only blinked as he stacked the heavy texts, picked them up, staring at his indescribably befuddled and mildly bemused expression in the mirror as he passed and watched the young lady’s back as she took them someplace else to learn the way of the Vampire.


	3. Chapter Two

CHAPTER TWO.

His teeth ached.

His head ached.

Every part of him ached; he couldn’t help his tongue dragging across the sharpened tips of his canines to try and ease them in some way. But it didn’t seem to be helping in the slightest. He groaned, unable to help the escaped sound as he kept his stinging eyes on the blurring letters of each word, of each further sentence he read in his head, of each increasingly infuriating paragraph the outlined the way Humans belittled and did everything in their power to squash any vampires that believed they had any rights.

He sighed, rubbing at the jaded orbs with his fists covered with roughened fabric.

Poppy, for that was the daughter of the Coven Physician’s name, kept eyeing him, flicking her eyes up every now and then, seemingly to make sure he was indeed reading and respecting her precious books. He sighed again, ‘Yes?’

‘Have you eaten?’ She asked, this time, whereas all the other times he’d asked she’d completely ignored he’d even said anything at her and kept painting her nails a bright yellow that rivalled the glare of the burning sun.

He dropped the page he was about to flip over and looked directly at her piercing crystalline irises. ‘What?’

‘Well obviously Father would have given you something to sate your immediate Hunger, your immediate urge after being turned, but have you actually drunk anything yet?’ She was looking somewhat worried by the prospect, beginning to rise from the scratched wooden table and uncomfortable library chair.

‘…No…?’ He was beginning to worry as he looked at her, concern in his own posture as he followed her rise from the table, his hands closing the large bound cover over the crispy and yellowed pages of her precious book of laws and etiquette.

‘Oh dear. Sometimes, I think Father’s getting a bit long in the Fang to be looking after anybody in the Coven.’ She shook her blonde locks, reaching across the mahogany to grab his lowered hand and start dragging him from the Study Hall. They travelled, rather, he was dragged the entire way down the dugout tunnels lit only by gas lamps mounted into the cavern walls.

Dim lights, though is eyesight was helped along by magic, were not the ideal form of light he would have preferred. ‘Poppy?’ He questioned, his voice rising an octave as a delicious scent wafted towards them from around the next bed in the tunnel. His words were stilted as the fragrance caught in his nostrils and he stopped protesting the manhandling altogether. ‘Oh…’ He whispered, slipping into a daze.

Poppy’s hand and his own nose leading the way. His eyes had closed, his neck went out and his whole body shut down when she opened a rather impressively iron-wrought locked dungeon door, with her unoccupied hand.

She immediately produced a vial thick with a scarlet substance and shoved it into his trembling hand that wasn’t clenched painfully into his shirt. When he’d devoured this one, she placed another, and another, and another until he was nothing more than a whimpering, moaning mess. His eyes never opened as he drained each one.

  * ○●○●



He wasn’t sure where he was. Who was he again? Where was he again?

His mind had become a blank, empty shell to his mindless dribbling brain within. The smell of the scarlet substance was intoxicating, and the taste; the taste was exquisite as it slid down his parched throat, a slight metallic tang, red and thick coating his insides and spreading within his veins.

He’d let it take over, even though, the thought that he was devouring such a substance would normally have made him cower back; at least before he had no other options but to sate his hunger or…Perish, he supposed.

‘Give…Give…Give…’

‘Give…Me…Give…Me…’

‘Give…Me…My…’ **SLAM**! ‘ **GIVE ME**!!’ A hand tapered with pitch pointed nails slammed against the re-enforced glass that blocked him from the rest of the Coven and the substance he so…so… **CRAVES**.

‘Please…’ He whimpered as his messy head hit the glass beside his trembling hand. His teeth were in agony and his tongue was going through some weird tingling numb sensation; he needed it, he really needed it. The hunger, of the hunger was all encompassing. ‘Please.’ He tried again, sliding down the transparent glass door with his head still pressed to the coolness with his nails scraping across the surface. His knees smashed the stone that lined the interior of the small cupboard sized “Frenzy” room. His whole-body shuddering wracked with sobs. 

  
He just wanted the hunger pains to stop.

The raven grabbed at his head, uncaring of his sharp nails and gripped and pulled the dark strands as he screamed in anguish and agony, then let his arms drop to wrap around his contracting middle; clenching painfully from withholding.

‘Please…’

‘Please…’ The young man’s eyes were shut. He saw no one there watching him, frowning at the defeat that seemed to weigh down on the young vampire changeling’s shoulders. He was a broken young man. The immortals on the other side worried their lips, frowning in concern and frustration for the situation should never have arose.

‘Poppy why?’

‘He looked starved…’ She whispered, hugging her own body, staring beyond the transparent doorway to the pale man beyond with the darkening eyelids. She avoided looking at her Father; she knew he was disappointed in her; he barely spoke to her in the last few weeks. ‘I’m sorry.’ She said once more.

‘I was going to ease him into this. The hunger can break a newborn. Has.’ He waved at the sobbing mess that was before them, locked away and kept at a distance from Coven and sustenance, bared by a thick re-enforced glass doorway.

‘But withholding isn’t going to make anything better! Grandfather was wrong! There has to be another way!’ She all but screeched at the old man. The two figures beside her flinched with the one beyond the door on his knees; head bowed and dark matted with sweat locks concealing his facial features but not his body language.

‘…She’s right, Doc.’ He sounded reluctant to voice his opinion. ‘Surely there’s another way to ease him in. He’s broken down. He’s frantic for it, he’s lost all sense.’ He couldn’t remember where he’d been going with that. He scrubbed at his neck and scowled.

‘…The only thing I can think is just that. We ease him back into manageable amounts. Amounts that are normal, so his Hunger knows that that’s the limit. That’s the amount, no more, no less. That’s all we can really do, I’m afraid.’ Doc sighed as he spoke quietly, reluctant in all this, and afraid. Afraid, his Father and his Grandfather had been right, and you don’t ever come back from a Frenzy.

He shuffled a few moments, digging his hands into the belt bag attached to his hip. Withdrawing a decent sized syringe and a medium sized containment of Blood, tapping out the access that spilled over the top and licking it up from the tainted finger-pad, he studied the prone figure beyond before using his Vampiric Magic on the handless door. 

It eased open and he only had a second before the raven was on him. Cringing he stabbed the chest and directedly injected the blood into the slowly pulsing heart. His own tooth stabbed into his own lip as the pained groan resonated into his eardrum as nails scrapped across his shoulder blades through his lab coat.

It would be a long and painful journey, but Zack was determined to succeed where others, namely his forefather’s, had given up before. His mentors, his Father, Grandfather had all had this infuriating motto that had eventually gotten on his nerves.

“Once they’ve gone into a Frenzy, they’re lost forever. No one returns from a Frenzy.”

He was not going to let that Motto continue to rule his healing practices. He would save this young man from an even worse fate then becoming the immortal bloodsucking fiend that the world despised and ridiculed. If the man hadn’t deserved this rude taking of his life to save it, then he certainly didn’t deserve to spend his next life stuck in a Frenzy that slowly killed him as he drew himself crazy locked away forever.

No.

Fucking, NO.


End file.
